


Sex, Drugs, and a City View

by Pineprin137



Category: Original Work
Genre: Anal Sex, Choking, Cuddling & Snuggling, Exhibitionism, Gay Sex, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Recreational Drug Use, Spit As Lube, Spit Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-28
Updated: 2019-04-28
Packaged: 2020-02-09 11:42:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18637435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pineprin137/pseuds/Pineprin137
Summary: What really goes on in the penthouse suite behind locked doors.





	Sex, Drugs, and a City View

A man kneels between the couch and the glass table. He’s only wearing his jeans, his t-shirt long since tossed into the corner of the hotel suite and his shoes discarded haphazardly by the door. He lowers his head to the line of powdered white on the table and breathes it in. He leans back against the cool leather of the couch and scrunches his face until the burn subsides. Smiling when he feels soft lips against his neck, the man lets his eyes drift closed. A hand slides around his neck and squeezes gently. He curls his toes against the soft carpet and moans. His hands seek contact and finally grip soft denim as his throat constricts. He struggles to gasp when teeth nip and tug at his earlobe before a slick tongue traces down to his jaw. His head is yanked back until lips smash against his own. The lack of oxygen makes him dizzy, but his jeans tighten against his erection. 

He surrenders to the tongue teasing his lips and the hand slowly releases his throat and trails down to his nipples. Hissing at the pull of his nipple ring and whimpering when the bud is rolled between calloused fingers and flicked by a blunt nail. His body dripping with shared sweat, he feels drool from the sloppy kiss coat his chin. Suddenly, the hands on his chest reach down to his hips and heft him onto a warm denim-clad lap. He tries to turn around, but a low growl and a sharp bite against his neck stop him. One hand pushes into his chest until he lays against a bare chest while the other drifts down to his fly. It doesn’t release his aching cock like he desperately hoped for, instead, it rubs him through the denim. He squirms slightly and feels the stiff cock trapped against his ass twitch. He smirks and moves again, but a hand against his hip stills him.

Hot heavy breaths fight for control against his hair. He slides forward a little and reaches behind himself to feel for a button. After a moment of frustration and a low chuckle from his captor, he pops the two buttons and slides the zipper down as slow as he can. He has to adjust his position so he can reach down and grip that heavy, sweaty cock without dislocating his shoulder. Kisses against his upper back and along his shoulders reward him as he strokes it. He hears a few small groans and then the legs beneath him spread slightly so he is in a more stable position. Precome drips from his own slit onto a hand suddenly thrust into his boxers and encircling him. He groans and lets his head drop onto his lover’s shoulder. Just as suddenly, the hand withdraws and then shoves him off. He lands on his ass on the floor and fights not to cry out in pain as the back of his head strikes what might be a knee. Heavy breathing convinces him to risk a glance up at the other man’s face. He meets with dark eyes and a clenched jaw. He stills and tries to calm his own breath while waiting for instructions. 

“Get off the damn floor. Stand against the window.” 

He nods slightly, then grips the table and hauls himself up. Pausing briefly when the room spins, then walking over to the large floor-to-ceiling window looking out on the city. He doesn’t dare turn around when he hears footsteps follow. They veer off towards the bar before a  glass clinks against the countertop. He listens for the splash of whiskey and smiles when there’s a muttered curse. Shaky hands probably caused a spill. Hopefully on the counter and not the carpet like last time. Although a little whiskey on the carpet is rather tame compared to the evidence they usually leave behind in the suite. He frowns at the absence of a swallow but remains where he is, standing against the window. A splash against his bare back causes him to jump and bang his head against the cold glass. The liquid runs down into his jeans and seeps into the crack of his ass. When a warm tongue licks the sticky alcohol from his skin he shivers. Lips travel down the length of his back and then slowly return to his neck. Hands cover his and push hard against the metal frame of the window. He gasps at the contrast of cold metal and warm saliva. A thigh slides between his legs and a bare cock bumps against his still denim-enclosed ass. One hand releases its hold to snag his jeans and pull until he finally feels the room’s air conditioning against his bare skin. He fails to hold back a small whimper when the body pressed against his steps back and breaks all skin-to-skin contact. He attempts to focus on the lights of the city, the cars still racing through the city despite the late hour. He gently ruts his throbbing dick against the glass, desperate for friction, but halts when a hand smacks his left cheek roughly. He leans into the glass even further. His hands grip the frame and he grits his teeth against the cut of metal on his palm. The pain feels good though, it helps him focus. 

Hands jerk his hips back so that his ass sticks out further than the rest of his body. Then his lover’s spit drips down to join the whiskey teasing his taint. His jeans are shoved down even further and then gentle hands spread his ass. He feels a warm pressure against his rim and whimpers. It’s too dry, but he craves it anyway. More spit drips down to his hole before those hands return to his and splay his fingers against the glass. He welcomes the intrusion when he finally feels his lover’s cock slide into him. He moans and thrusts his ass back as far as he can. His cock jumps against his belly begging for attention, but all of his lover’s concentration is focused on his ass.

He startles slightly when another slap lands against his ass cheek. Then the angle changes and he sees stars as his lover brushes against his prostate. One hand leaves the glass to drop between his legs, disappearing for a moment while yet more saliva is applied, then begins to stroke him. With each stroke of his cock, his prostate is teased by the thick cock pounding him. He hears grunting behind him and feels sweat on his skin. He bites his lip as his climax approaches. He quickly reaches down to grip the base of his cock. He won’t dare come without permission. The thrusts quicken smashing him against the glass while the hand strips his dick. His lover’s hips piston into him and then still with a growl and a bite to his ear.

“Mine.”

That one word sends him tumbling into oblivion. He spurts against the window and paints his lover’s hand with creamy white. He is finally released when he whimpers from overstimulation. He rests his forehead heavily against the glass while he feels the cock slip from his ass and then strong arms curl around him. They take a few minutes to calm their breathing before heading back to the couch on shaky legs. He collapses against the leather and buries his face in a sweaty chest. He can hear the man’s heart beating fast beneath his ear even while a gentle hand caresses his back. His lover’s head is laid back and his eyes are closed. His mouth hangs slightly open and he wonders if he actually put his lover to sleep. But when he slides out from the close embrace, blue eyes peer up at him questioningly. 

“I’ll be right back, promise.”

“Better be…”

He chuckles at the mumbled threat and walks over to the bathroom. He grabs a hand towel and returns to the couch where he cleans up as gently as he can and then sets the cloth aside. He kneels in front of the table and opens the bag before using a razor blade to line up the powder he scoops out. He confirms it is nice and straight before he leans over and snorts it. He lets his head fall back, sniffs hard, and then wipes under his nose to make sure there is no residue. He gets back up and goes to the bar. He doesn't add any ice cubes to the whiskey, his man prefers it neat. Standing behind the couch, he taps his short nails against the glass in hopes of waking his slumbering partner. One blue eye cracks open and then closes again. 

“Mmm, that for me?”

“Mhmm. But first, you have to get up.”

“Pass.”

“If I let you fall asleep on the couch your neck is going to scream at you tomorrow.” A grunt is the only response he receives. He tries a different approach. “Okay. How about I help you up and then we can snuggle while you drink your nightcap? Hmm? How does that sound?”

“Fine. But I’m only snuggling so I can have my damn whiskey.” 

He deposits the glass on the nightstand in the bedroom and then stands in front of the couch, waiting. Finally, two arms reach up to him and he helps hoist his lover off of the couch and against his chest. He slides an arm over his shoulder and then grabs his boyfriend around the waist. The walk to the bedroom is slow, but they manage not to knock anything over. They finally collapse on the bed, spent. The glass of whiskey goes ignored in favor of curling up in each other's arms. Soon, the only sound in the suite is gentle snoring.   


End file.
